Through the Dark
by TravelingSong
Summary: "She's too weak to talk, can do nothing but bury her face in his neck as he carries her away, tries to move closer and closer and wishes she had the strength to hug him to her, Red, she sighs, and he keeps on walking without looking down because he couldn't bear it. He needs to take her away from all this, and then there'll be time. For recovery, comfort, and healing. A future."
1. Chapter 1

**AN: My new hiatus fic. Hope you enjoy. Thanks so much for reading! If you have a second to leave a comment, it's always appreciated.**

* * *

She should have known it couldn't have been this easy.

Everything had gone according to protocol in the beginning, a mission like most, a harmless routine. Until it had stopped.

It had been a trap, a set-up. She hadn't seen it coming and he had been too late. They had captured her, taken her away to a location she couldn't identify. Leverage against him. The cruelest way to cause him harm.

And now she doesn't know what will happen to her.

It's the uncertainty that aches, the solitude. She believes he will find her, it's the only thought she can trust. He will rescue her from these bleak surroundings, this cruel ordeal, save her like he always has, in all the years she's known him.

It's how she perseveres, with the image of him inside her head. She thinks about him over and over and _over_ again.

She thinks about the time he visited her late at night. No advance notice, no explanation. Just him standing in her doorway, nervous, fidgeting, _I don't mean to disturb you_ and _you're not_ , yet something was clearly wrong and she was too scared to ask, not sure how to handle him like this, and she didn't have much to offer, either, just her company and maybe that was enough for him, maybe that was the reason he had stopped by in the first place, maybe it was that simple. Seated next to him on the couch, she had taken his hand then, gently but with intent, her gaze never wavering, asking him to trust her. _You have me._

She thinks about the time she kissed him for solace. An impulsive gesture after an exhausting covert operation, a mission that claimed its victims but let him live, _it's really just a scratch_ and _never do that again_ , she isn't one for cliches but _god_ , to endanger himself the way he does to protect her, to shield her from yet another bullet, she's told him so many times to stop but he just doesn't listen. He _never_ listens. And then, out of nowhere, she had pressed her lips against his, leaving him breathless and speechless and _please, Red, never do that again_.

She thinks about the time he returned to her after months of separation. His figure appearing in a ballroom, a charity gala she was attending for surveillance, every determined step leading him towards her, he's always liked a dramatic entrance, _would you like to dance_ and _welcome back_ , his hand on her back guiding her and the fabric of his tuxedo soft against her skin, she's smiling against his shoulder as he moves closer to her ear. _I missed you, Lizzie._

She misses him, too. Can hardly stand it.

It's something to hold on to now, these memories, the knowledge that he must be looking for her. Just a matter of time. A way out of the darkness.

She's still breathing, and that counts for something. She won't go without a fight.

She wants to see him one more time.

She has survived so much.

She will survive this, too.

* * *

Someone is saying her name. The sound is distorted, muted, she hasn't fully gained consciousness yet, she just wants to sleep, but the voice is insistent, it's pleading with her, _open your eyes_ , she's so tired, _open your eyes, Lizzie, please_. She's dreaming again, she knows it, she's had this dream many times in the past few nights and it's painful, the illusion vanishing the moment she forces herself back to reality. She wants it to stop, wants to stop her mind from tricking her into hoping, it's just a voice, it's just a-

Just a hand on her cheek.

Then something warm covering her.

Then a silhouette coming into focus.

He looks exhausted. That's her first thought. She wants to reach out to him, ask him if he's okay, if he gets enough sleep, wants to apologize for making him worry.

It requires effort, even believing that what she's witnessing is real. She feels her body being lifted from the cold, hard ground, his jacket still around her, and she still hasn't fully registered that this is it, this is her escape, her rescue, this is her way home, this is her way back to _him_.

She's too weak to talk, can do nothing but bury her face in his neck as he carries her away, tries to move closer and closer and wishes she had the strength to hug him to her, _Red_ , she sighs, and he keeps on walking without looking down because he couldn't bear it. He needs to take her away from all this, and then there'll be time. Then there'll be time for recovery and comfort and healing. For a future.

It's been torture, the seemingly endless days of searching for her, his quest for vengeance wreaking havoc and questioning loyalties. When her location was made known to him, he hadn't hesitated a second. His team more skilled than his enemies, his methods more effective. _As far as you think I'm willing to go to protect that which I hold most dear, you can't possibly fathom how deep that well of mine truly goes._ And then suddenly, finally, merely a door separating them. His breathing unstable, his composure faltering. One pointed shot to break the lock, his heart racing, his mind bracing itself for whatever awaits him.

When he had laid eyes on her body, the pain in his chest had become unbearable.

* * *

He can feel her hand grasping his shirt tightly, unwilling to let him leave, and he only breaks the contact for a few seconds, positions her in the backseat, slowly and gingerly, doesn't know if there are injuries he hasn't yet discovered. He sits next to her silently, still can't manage to say what he wants to, _I'm sorry I didn't get there sooner, I'm sorry I failed you, forgive me,_ and she's struggling to stay awake, her debility too severe.

"It's okay, Lizzie. It's all over now," he tells her. "Go to sleep."

"Will you be there when I wake up?"

"Yes, Lizzie."

She closes her eyes and sinks down against him.

"I promise."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you guys so much for your sweet comments. Enjoy chapter 2!**

* * *

The car ride calms him, the streets ahead deserted and nighttime surrounding them.

Her head is resting on his shoulder now, a change from her earlier position, and he hopes she is comfortable, sleeping soundly and dreaming of happier things or of nothing at all. He wants to take her hand, just something to ground him, but he's afraid of waking her and remains still instead, listens to her breathing, closes his eyes to fully focus.

She's alive, she's alive, she's _alive._

It's how he survives, with the image of her inside his head. In times of need, in times of solitude.

He thinks about the time she called him in the middle of the night. A spontaneous decision on her end and a conversation ultimately going nowhere, no blacklister, no intel, _are you okay_ and _I'm not sure why I called_ , she had sounded oddly shy, embarrassed even, and he wished he could see her face to gauge her emotions. He had teased her, an attempt to lighten the mood, asked if she had been missing him, if life was too dull without him. He could feel her hesitation, held his breath until her response. _Yes._

He thinks about the time they went out for dinner. Another arduous case waiting to be solved and not even a lead, her desk covered in files and the atmosphere agitated, _I can't take a break_ and _you should eat_ , he had finally convinced her that she needed to focus on something else for a bit, clear her head. He had picked the restaurant, had led her to a quiet booth that would grant them some privacy, had watched her break down right in front of him, stressed and exhausted and _I don't know what to do, Red_. When he had eventually dropped her off at her house, all comforting words and reassuring touches, she had kissed him on the cheek before saying goodbye. _Thank you._

He thinks about the time she saved his life _._ On the run and partners, fugitives from whatever fate had in store for them, chased by people who just didn't understand, _how will this end_ and _you will get through this_ , he had been in control of every threat and this wasn't his first time, either, he had been running for most of his life. Just a moment of negligence and someone with a gun, her voice calling for him, _Red_ , he had barely turned around in time to hear the gunshot, a lifeless body sinking to the ground behind him and the sudden realization that she would kill for him, too. She had grabbed his arm and pulled him into an alley, away from death to momentary shelter, had inspected his side to make sure he wasn't hit. With a final nod she had fixed his jacket, smoothened the lapels to avoid his gaze. A bashful smile and _you need to be more careful, okay._

He tilts his head and leans to the side then, her hair soft against his cheek as her fingers begin to move, seeking and longing, as they find his hand in the dark, as he loses himself in a memory of two broken souls seated on a bench, the world closing in around them, and he can feel her pulse now, his only salvation, her skin warm against his.

He'll bring her somewhere safe, a place where none of this will matter, far away from the perils that have damaged them.

 _I never wanted you to be-_

He won't fail her again.

 _Like me._

* * *

He doesn't check the time when the car pulls up the driveway. He can hear the ocean in the distance, _yes_ , he thinks, _this will do_ , a refuge for the two of them, his most valuable estate for quite simple reasons. It's where he can be himself, disregard the persona he has so carefully crafted, a place that has proven cathartic in times of challenge and turmoil.

She doesn't move as the car door opens, doesn't even flinch as he gently touches her arm. _Lizzie_ , he says, _we're here_ , but nothing, and he lets her be, picks her up instead like he had done mere hours ago, her face in his neck and _hold on, Lizzie, just hold on_ , and she's slowly waking now, too, her body beginning to shake from the cold, the shock, the pain, and he's holding her tighter, his lips near her ear, whispers of consolation, _only_ _focus on my voice and nothing else_ , the last steps until he reaches the guest room, _it's alright,_ until he carefully puts her down on the bed, _it will all be alright._ He dims the light on the nightstand, doesn't want her to wince at the sudden brightness. She looks too small, too fragile, and he knows he has to be practical, check for injuries, keep her warm, let her rest. He hopes she will let him, that she trusts him enough to help her.

She's barely awake, looks back at him through hazy eyes as he calmly asks her if she's hurt, if there are wounds that require attention. She shakes her head and relief floods through him, and then he sees her lips move, _I'm so tired, Red_ , he hears her say as he sits down on the edge of the bed, _I know, Lizzie_ , his hand covering hers, _I know._ He wants her to be comfortable, excuses himself briefly to prepare the bathroom for her, find something for her to wear, _take your time_ and _I'll be right outside if you need anything_.

When she steps out of the shower, it's his bathrobe she picks over the neatly folded stack of clothing next to the sink.

When she opens the door and finds him waiting for her, she comes undone.

He catches her, holds her to him with all the strength he can muster, his fingers tracing patterns up her back while her tears soak through his shirt, her suffering evident on his skin now and burning and burning and _burning_ , he wants to help her so desperately.


End file.
